


Pan-Pacific Defense Studio

by PunkHazard



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2076261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkHazard/pseuds/PunkHazard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh steps into a gym that’s older, understaffed, a far cry from the days where every one of Pentecost’s athletes had a title or two under their belts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pan-Pacific Defense Studio

**Author's Note:**

> first posted to [tumblr](http://flybaldies.tumblr.com/post/93505262368/pan-pacific-defense-studio-mako-always-did-have) w/ a photoset

Mako always did have a tendency to take in strays, but up until now she’d never sought them out for herself. Stacker catches her one night in his office, perched on his desk and sifting through a stack of folders. She lands on ‘Becket Y.’ and ‘Becket R.’, both of them with win-loss-draw ratios that could rival the triplets’, if only their careers had lasted longer.

‘What happened to these two?’ she asks, showing him the photo clipped to the inside of Yancy’s file. ‘What happened five years ago?’

What happened is Yancy enlisted, Raleigh with him, then got himself killed out in iraq— hit by a car on patrol, one of the good ol’ US of A’s own. Raleigh finished his tour, left the Marines with an honorable discharge, then dropped off the grid.

Mako finds him on his sister’s property out in ohio, an old punching bag in her barn the last tie Raleigh’s got to his old life. Me and Yance used to practice on this as kids, he says. We always thought we’d be back in the ring after iraq, he says. I come in here to look at it all the time, he says, but I haven’t touched it in years.

‘I can’t get back in that ring again,’ he says. But he also asks her, ‘Do you box?’

‘I don’t box,’ Mako says, ‘no official matches. but I can fight.’

Turns out Mako trains under Sasha Kaidanovsky (or, as she’s better known in the circuit, CHERNOBOG Kaidanovsky), women’s UFC champ six years running. She doesn’t tell him that, of course, when he bets his return to Stacker Pentecost’s Pan-Pacific Defense Studio on whether or not she can take him down. When they land in San Francisco, Mako practically swaggers up to baggage claim.

They hail a cab back to the PPDS and Raleigh steps into a gym that’s older, understaffed, a far cry from the days where every one of Pentecost’s athletes had a title or two under their belts.

* * *

Any other trainer probably would’ve closed up shop by now— all the best fighters (including himself) retired with injuries, moved on to other gyms after they carved names for themselves, most of his staff gone the same way. But Stacker considers himself an optimist, if anything. Herc has been his most loyal member since opening day. Pound-for-pound, he’s one of the most solid fighters around, decent footwork and a powerful right hook.

Chuck is a rising star, every one of his official matches ending with a brutal knockout. His problem is that attitude and some sort of deathwish, ever since Angela passed: the arena Cheung and Jin and Hu fought with everything they had to get out of, he goes to willingly— and complains that it’s not quite as dangerous as it used to be. Something about the rush, the lack of rules, the way opponents would sometimes whip out a knife or razor (they don’t allow guns anymore, Cheung would say) with no warning.

First time the police pick him up in a raid, Chuck calls Mako to come bail him out. The second time, he calls Jin. Third time, Cheung says into the receiver, ‘We warned you last time,’ just before he passes his phone to Stacker and goes back to his brothers.

Stacker gives him a lift to the emergency room to get his hand bandaged up, then takes him back to the apartment he still shares with the old man. Herc doesn’t meet Chuck’s eyes when he gets the door, and Chuck goes straight to his room. He hears them talking well into the morning, the smell of coffee seeping in under the door and inundating their tiny flat.

At the gym, Stacker takes him off the roster. ‘Until you’re healed,’ he says, then warns, ‘but if you endanger your own life and the careers of every fighter at this studio again, you’re finished here.’

Mako returns, Raleigh on her heels, just in time to see Chuck storm into the locker room. He doesn’t talk to the Weis for a month.

* * *

Not that it bothers them— they have their own fights to prep for, and the more Chuck is a liability, the less time they have for training. Cheung and Jin and Hu have many things in common: quick footwork, lightning-fast reflexes, a style that leaves their opponents feeling as if a typhoon had just blown through. Unbroken win streaks. Anyone else with their record would have been courted to bigger gyms, a more famous trainer, but they don’t just owe Pentecost their lives, they just plain like the guy.

They specialize in muay thai, which Stacker only has passing experience in, but he still has the connections to call in a specialist. Tendo’s the one who keeps tabs on the boys, once he has them comfortably established in the PPDS.

Of the three, Cheung hits hardest. tendo swears up and down he can hear bones cracking sometimes, after particularly well-placed knee or elbow strikes. Stacker depends on big brother to keep the younger two in line— which doesn’t always work, but the Weis make the place noisy and lively, so he doesn’t complain.

Jin’s fast— no one’s never seen him cornered, and he doesn’t always manage a KO but more often than not his matches end when judges start fearing for the lives of his opponents. Hu has an eye for strategy that puts both brothers’ to shame; never flashy, only the occasional knockout— but he racks up TKOs, and he does it in style. Mako shadows Hu when Sasha’s busy, and he never turns her down when she asks for a spar.

The Weis help out on weekends for spare cash: restocking inventory, doing minor repairs, taking calls, training new members. ‘It’s nice,’ Cheung’d said when Stacker asked if that was really what he and his brothers wanted to do in their downtime. ‘Getting to do normal things, we don’t mind.’

* * *

Sasha says every year that she plans to retire— Hu answers every time that when she does, he’ll eat his own shoe. Retirement doesn’t sound like too much of a drag to her, though. She’s been spending more time at the PPDS, usually to keep Aleksis on schedule (his friends call him ALPHA, though alphas don’t hold much of a candle to the devil herself) between sets on weight machines. Besides, she likes the boisterous vibe of the place.

Years ago, Stacker had tapped the Kaidanovsky duo to keep their local bookie occupied. Hannibal Chau likes to stick his fingers into places they don’t belong, but Stacker needs his cooperation to keep his gym open.

Aleksis is comfortably established in the wrestling scene and has been for years (it’s all fake, he’d tell the triplets in that low tectonic rumble of a voice, but they enjoy the hell out of watching him fight anyway). Sometimes new members join just to catch a glimpse of him or ask for an autograph— which Pentecost doesn’t mind, any income is good income, especially when it doesn’t involve extra expense on his part.

Friday’s the only time everyone’s at the studio. It gets a bit crowded, but most weeks Tendo will order pizza or bagels. Other times, the Weis and Kaidanovskys will invite Mako (primarily) and the white boys (incidentally) out for dinner and drinks. They usually ask Stacker and Herc and Tendo as well— but the dads prefer to pop open beers in the back room, put their feet up and complain about the kids. Tendo always says that once BabyChoi’s old enough to tumble, he’ll bring him in to meet the crowd (and maybe score some free babysitting).

Ten members doesn’t seem like much… and it’s not. A few on the verge of retirement, others long past the peak of their careers, the rest still rising, not even close to the top.

Stacker wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.


End file.
